


Asit Tal-Eb

by maliwanhellfire



Series: Skyhold [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bull's Tama is the Qunari ambassador to Ferelden, Bull's Tama worries about him, Gen, Krem gets positive attention, No real content warnings, The Qun from two perspectives, background intrigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliwanhellfire/pseuds/maliwanhellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She didn’t make him report in every night, because of the ever-present risk of phone taps, and it gave him enough leeway to do the forbidden before she had forbidden it.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Such men as him were needed, but that didn’t make him less of a little shit.</i></p><p> </p><p>Bull's Tama goes by Rasaan now that she is in Ferelden, but that's not who she was. Who she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sweet Child of Mine

Rasaan had gone by many names in her time, but she found her current one to be the most misleading. The Qunari had never had an Ambassador before Rasaan had volunteered for the position, so there was no word for what she was. A bureaucrat with a Qunlat dictionary had chosen to call her Emissary, while being completely unaware of the true nuance of the word. She was a loyal servant to the Qun but she was not the Arishok’s heir; Rasaan was a moniker that suited her poorly. She much preferred the name she’d had before.

 

Hissrad.

 

\---

 

“ _Where is Bull?_ ” Rasaan asked, looking around her living-room and accounting for all of her charges but one.

Kaaras and Ash were busy ruining their eyes playing a Bas game that involved murdering pedestrians (they said it provided insight into the Ferelden mind, and she allowed the lie). Kost was studying, as was her wont, and Tallis was gently brushing her hair, because Kost was terrible at looking after it on her own.

She spied a small foot poking over the edge of the sofa. It was pulled in slowly as she spoke, which was a solid strategy for avoiding her attention, but Rasaan was no apprentice with untrained eyes. There was no hiding from her.

“Cremisius,” She said, entreating but firm, “where has my little imekari gone?”

She looked down to the seat of the couch, at the tiny ‘Vint her charge had befriended. Krem blinked up at her, his mouth full of puffed corn that had been covered in orange cheese. Rasaan had no idea how humans managed to live off such things and not die.

Krem swallowed before replying, “Hi, Mrs Rasaan.”

He might have been a little garbage pit, but all boys were at his age. Rasaan didn’t mind Krem. Tevinter had been very cruel to him, but he was still a very polite child. If it weren’t for the fact that it would cause an international incident, she might’ve invited him to become a Viddathari, perhaps a Karasaad, eventually. He had a very strong will, and seemed to have the fortitude one would need to resist Asala-taar.

He was so _small_ though.

“Cremisius.” Rasaan said.

“He wasn’t at school today,” Krem replied quietly.

“Hm,” She said, pulling her phone from her jacket. “Cremisius, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You may as well eat with us, then,” Rasaan said. “The chef made that layered pasta again, and I know you like it.”

“Thank you,” Krem replied, sounding as surprised as he always did when someone other than Bull wanted him to be around.

“Good boy,” She said, ruffling his hair.

Krem lit up like a flood lamp. It filled Rasaan with a deep sadness, to see how he bloomed under the smallest kindness. _This is what happens_ , she thought, _when you let the unqualified raise children_. The South was so utterly inept.

“At least make them take a course, first,” Rasaan muttered to herself, leaving the living-room to go to her office.

She typed Bull’s number into her phone from memory, keeping records of all your contacts was another foolish custom Fereldens were fond of, and hit dial. The call immediately went to message.

“Hey, the Bull’s not in right now, but leave a message after the tone and he’ll get back to you!”

There was a short pause before Bull burst into rapid-fire Qunlat.

“ _SorryfornotbeingatthephoneTama, I’llcallsoon, Irespectyou!_ ”

Rasaan groaned under her breath as the phone beeped. That was her charge. That was the child that she had raised.

“Teth a, imekari, ashkost kata. Ebost kith,” She said in her firmest voice.

She put her finger up to the end call button before thinking better of it.

“Panahedan, Kadan,” She added, though reluctantly, and then she did hang up.

 

\---

 

Bull had taken off before, usually to do things Ferelden children did in order to rebel against their parents. He said it was good intelligence, she said it was bloody-minded and dangerous. Of course, she’d taught him to be independent-minded enough that he’d follow his nose off a cliff and avoid punishment by playing with technicalities. She didn’t make him report in every night, because of the ever-present risk of phone taps, and it gave him enough leeway to do the forbidden before she had forbidden it.

Such men as him were needed, but that didn’t make him less of a little shit.

 

\---

 

Rasaan’s phone rang the next day at a quarter past eight, fifteen minutes before Bull’s classes were set to start. She answered the call with no small amount of resignation. The number said ‘Private’ but she knew exactly who it was.

“Imekari, where have you been?” Rasaan asked.

“Heyyy Tama, sorry for falling off the grid…” Bull said sheepishly.

He was taller than her and had been for two years, but she still couldn’t help but think of him as the sweet little boy that used to hug her knees and beam at her. Ever eager to please her, even when he’d done something he shouldn’t have. At least he usually had a reason for it.

“You keep this up and I’ll start to worry about you,” Rasaan said, forebodingly. “Now out with it, tell me where you’ve been.”

“With a… friend?” Bull said, voice turning up at the end of the sentence with more unsureness than he usually had.

Rasaan rubbed her temples with her free hand. Bull had a lot of friends. Quite a few _friends,_ too, now that he lived in a country with no Tamassrans. He’d never had a ‘friend?’ before.

“He was sad,” Bull said.

“People often are, Bull, but I don’t usually spend a night not knowing your position because of it.”

“He was really sad.”

Rasaan’s heart lurched just a little, beating against a smoke-thin jolt of fear. Bull had always been empathetic, and clever, and more observant than most at his level of training. Valiant. Powerful. A little too easily attached to those around him. Bull always walked the knife edge with the confidence of the unknowing.

“Tama?” Bull asked, when the silence drew a little long. “Are you there?”

“Yes, imekari,” Rasaan replied.

“If I disappointed you, really badly disappointed you, would you…” Bull cut himself off. “Sorry, never mind.”

“There will come a day when you need to leave me,” Rasaan said. “And on that day I will let you go, but you will always be my Kadan.”

She measured the words out carefully, so very carefully. Bull couldn’t know, and Rasaan herself only suspected, but she knew him well. Hopefully he would remember not just what she had said, but how.

“Thanks, Tama. I have to go to class now, love you!” Bull said, before hanging up.

It was such a wretchedly Southern thing to say.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of qunlat in this and the potential nuances of meaning are a bit important if you want to get into it, but the basic gist of what Rasaan says is this: Listen well, child, you're courting death. Return home.  
> And then she says: Be safe, my heart.


	2. The Changing Ocean Tides

Yenaan pulled her car in front of Andraste’s School for Girls, and searched the afternoon crowd for her daughter. It was never difficult to find her among the humans and elves. She was almost seven feet tall without the horns. She stuck out. Yenaan Adaar thanked her lucky stars that Inkuudi liked it that way.

When Yenaan found her, she saw that Ink was already waving wildly in her direction, a bright smile on her face. Yenaan stuck her hand out her car window and waved back, her own expression pleased but tired. It had been a long day.

Ink threw herself into the passenger seat after throwing some effusive goodbyes at her friends. She put her bag at her feet and turned to her mother, smiling with her mouth open, hands on her knees. She wasn’t even wearing her school uniform, she’d already changed into her casual clothes.

“Seatbelt, please,” Yenaan said.

“I hear somebody’s going to see Dorian today!” Ink said, not dropping the grin for a moment.

“Try to, anyway. I think we can catch him before he gets on the bus,” Yenaan replied. “Seatbelt, Ink.”

Ink rolled her eyes and buckled up. Yenaan had been trying to text Dorian all day, but he hadn’t been responding. She didn’t feel like telling Ink that, though. It was enough for one of them to worry.

Hopefully he hadn’t run off with a Qunari again. Andraste’s tits, Yenaan had spent the whole day pretending she wasn’t losing her shit over that little chestnut. She was surprised the boy wasn’t _dead_ , or locked up somewhere, with one of those awful masks and…

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to think about that. Maker willing she’d never see the like again.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Yenaan asked, pulling out onto the main road to Skyhold.

“Kind of boring, they made us watch a video about responsible magic use, but it was like an Afterschool Special. They had Claymation demons!”

“Sounds cheap.”

“You could see fingerprints on them, mum. Fingerprints.”

Yenaan laughed, putting one hand over her mouth to cover the expression a little. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ink looking pleased with herself. It was a funny thing, she’d always assumed it would stop somewhere, but every day she loved her daughter a bit more. When Yenaan was worn down, Ink made the sun come out. Unless they’d had a massive fight, but that was rare. And even still, Ink was worth a little rain.

“Promise me you won’t embarrass Dorian when we pick him up,” Yenaan said. “You know he’s shy.”

“I would never,” Ink replied.

 

 

\---

 

 

Ink was out of the car before Yenaan had even parked it, which was worth another minor heart-attack in an already stressful day. She bounced across the road, white hair streaming behind her. An SUV had to slow down to avoid her, and she didn’t even notice.

Yenaan put her face in her hands and looked through her fingers.

A blonde elf was gaping at Ink openly, something like awe on her face as Ink jogged past. Yenaan wanted to smack her nose with a newspaper when she saw that the elf’s eyes were glued to Ink’s ass.

The elf’s face fell entirely when Ink held up her hand and shouted, “Dorian!”

Served her right.

Yenaan didn’t see Dorian immediately, the afterschool crowd at Skyhold was a little too dense for that, but she did catch people talking amongst themselves as Ink walked back towards the car. When the masses finally parted, she saw that Ink was dragging Dorian along, his hand hooked over her arm. Poor thing looked a little gobsmacked, but Ink had that effect on people. Yenaan raised her hand in greeting and Dorian gave a little wave in reply.

“Get in the back, kid, we’re going out for Orlesian,” Yenaan said.

She rolled her eyes when Ink pushed the boy over to the far side, pulling herself in after him.

“I guess I’m playing chauffeur today,” Yenaan said, only mostly under her breath.

As she pulled out into traffic she caught the blonde elf’s gaze for a moment. She used it to raise two fingers towards her own eyes, then point them back at the girl. She saw the girl puff up in angry frustration from out the rear view mirror.

“It’s nice to see you, Madame Adaar,” Dorian said, his seatbelt already fastened and his hands folded politely in his lap.

Her own daughter was sprawled out and looking at him incredulously.

“Madame?” She said.

Yenaan almost missed seeing Dorian stick his tongue out at her.

“Ink?” Yenaan asked.

“Yes, mum?”

“Put on your darn seatbelt.”

Ink growled under her breath while Dorian laughed at her a little. Didn’t just laugh either, he smiled, just a little thing, but it endured an entire car ride with Ink continually talking at him. Yenaan didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so happy.

 

 

\---

 

 

It didn’t last. She’d known it wouldn’t, but it still broke her heart. Yenaan vetoed Orlesian the moment they parked the car and Dorian started looking very confused. Yenaan pulled out her wallet and handed Ink a fifty.

“There’s a Nugburger joint down the street, get what you like and a lot of it,” Yenaan said, already getting out of her seat.

Ink nodded, slipping out of the car with nothing more than firm touch to Dorian’s shoulder, to say goodbye. Yenaan pulled herself in to the empty space, leant over to undo Dorian’s seatbelt, and wrapped her arm around him.

“I forgot for a minute,” Dorian said, voice close to cracking.

“Forgot what?” Yenaan asked softly.

“Forgot about Felix.”

Yenaan closed her eyes tightly for a moment. She let out a breath.

Yenaan knew all about Felix; everything that Dorian had been willing to tell her. He’d been very young and very sick, and Dorian had loved him. Worse, Felix had loved him back. Yenaan knew how hard that was to get up from.

“I’m so sorry, Dorian,” Yenaan said.

“What kind of monster am I?” Dorian asked, his thin body quaking.

“Not one at all,” Yenaan said.

Yenaan had worked her job for years, for almost as long as she’d been away from the Qun. There were clients and there were clients, some that barely needed her and some that followed her every word. Some that didn’t listen at all. Sometimes it felt like a sea of people that moved past and moved on, for better or worse.

Still, there were the occasional exceptions; people she remembered because they were hard to forget. That was how it was going to be with Dorian. And over her dead body would it be a memory that hurt.

“I wish you’d called me,” She said, gentling a hand through his hair, trying to make her voice as non-judgmental as she could. “I would’ve come.”

“You’re busy,” Dorian replied.

“Not for you. And I work with a bunch of assholes, I’m always looking for an excuse to ditch the office…”

Dorian huffed out a laugh, but there wasn’t much mirth in it. Yenaan bit back all the questions she wanted ask, about how he was, if he’d eaten that day, and just what had happened with the Qunari boy. That was the part that worried her most. The arms of the Qun were long and grasping, and there was no mercy to be found with them.

Now wasn’t the time, but how long could she afford to wait…

The front passenger door opened and Ink climbed inside, a paper bag in one hand and a drink tray in the other. She put the former in her lap and held the tray out.

“I got you a thickshake with fancy chocolate bits in it,” Ink said, hesitantly.

“What did you get me?” Yenaan asked.

“I dunno, coke?” Ink replied.

 

 

\---

 

 

Ink had a nap in the backseat on the drive home, she flagged in the evenings because she got up at ungodly hours every morning to run. Dorian sat in front, which made Yenaan feel like less of a taxi driver.

“Would you like to stay over at our house, tonight?” Yenaan asked, as they got closer to Haven.

“Am I allowed to do that?” Dorian said.

“Eh,” Yenaan replied.

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Ok, maybe not, but there’s no rules against it. Come on, run up to pack a bag, and come back down for a sleepover.”

“It’s a weeknight…”

“Ink’s always out before ten. I promise you, you’ll get enough sleep.”

“Ok,” Dorian said.

Getting Dorian to do _anything_ was never so easy, but Yenaan wasn’t going to look that particular horse in the mouth.

Dorian smiled at her softly, when they pulled in front of his apartment building. He hopped out of the car with no further complaint, but he did look back to check Yenaan hadn’t moved before going through the front door.

She didn’t know how anyone could look at a young man like him and call him Saarebas. Put that word down like a brand on children who had barely begun to grow their horns. Her work often felt futile, with too much need and not enough that she could do, but she worked to the best of her limits. She didn’t have to love anyone and know they could be taken away by a quirk of fate. One she would be expected to watch for, and enforce.

“Mum?” Ink asked, bleary from sleep.

Eighteen years and it was still her favourite word.

“Yes, my sweet?” Yenaan replied.

“I’m totally hungry,” Ink said.

Yenaan bit down a smile, “That sounds about right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am probably a bit too happy about comparing Adaar's mum and Bull's Tama.  
> Hope y'all liked it.


End file.
